I know that there is probably so much I have left out of the previous blog. It’s hard to condense all my thoughts and feelings of a month in to one blog. I am finding it hard to write also which doesn’t help.
So, I knew the S2 was ending on the Thursday. By Tuesday people just weren’t telling me anything and I had not been told much at all. I knew that night that there was a member of staff on who would probably tell me what was going on. I used him quite a lot for that as he was quite open with things that had been said about me. He was one of those types who likes to know what is going on with everything and anything, a finger in every pie type. Annoying, but also quite handy at times. So I asked him that night and he told me my community team were coming the next day to do a MHA assessment¬¬.
On the Wednesday, Dr T showed up with a Social Worker whom I did not know and one of the SHO’s from the ward. They asked me my thoughts and feelings and I told them all I wanted was to be at home and that being in hospital made things worse. I said I struggle to contain the thoughts and feelings while I was in hospital and given any opportunity I would self harm or attempt as I couldn’t control it in the environment I was in. I explained that I didn’t want anyone else’s input as that also made me worse and I wanted to be discharged so that I could be on my own. They had already made their minds up before assessing me. I knew they had as of what the staff member from the night before had said about them not wanting to discharge me. Dr T sloped off not to be seen again and the AMHP came back saying that they were putting me under a S3. They felt that what I would be going home to was too unstable (with the parents breaking up…it’s gone a bit nasty) and that I was too unstable to be in that environment. They also told me I couldn’t stay at Out of City Hospital as I needed to be near my community team. So they were looking for beds at In My City Hospital. The very 2 in which I have worked at. Fucking Fantastic! Panic, alarm, distress.
I couldn’t help it. That evening I attempted again. It was a shit attempt. All it got me was restrained by about 7 men and my underwear cut off and pulled off me (wedgie style, painful and no dignity). I didn’t want, couldn’t have anyone near me. Anyone who tried to come near me I would try and shove out the room. I know I am not small but these guys all weighed more than me and were 6 foot plus. They brushed me off like a fly. They tried keeping me in my room but every time they tried to come near me to check I would fly in to a panicked rage. I’ve still got the bruises a week on. In the end they said they didn’t want me in my room as I kept hiding in the bathroom so 3 of them just grabbed me, 2 on arms one on my legs and just plonked me back in communal area. I think I nearly got one of them in the balls. I don’t know what comes over me. It’s like someone has flicked a switch and done something to me. All I care about doing is self-harming and will do what I can to do it and I don’t care who gets in my way. These three guys who were doing this were actually 3 of the guys I liked the most. Give them their dues though. They were not ones to hold grudges. An example of the uncaringness (if that’s even a word) was what one of them said to me after (Finger in Every Pie). I was still really upset and he just sort of barked at me “what’s this all about, the S3, as you only have yourself to blame”. No “do you want to talk about it”, “come on calm down, this is not getting us anywhere”, “come somewhere a bit quieter and we’ll talk” (he was supposed to be one of my key nurses). Just barking at me and when I told him to fuck off as his tone just pissed me off even more he just sarcastically said “you do obviously not want to talk then”.
I hope as I have written about my experiences I have not made it out to be a look what I’ve done type thing. But I have tried to write about it in a way that gets my point across. Of course, as Robbie Williams and Gary Barlow say “There’s 3 versions of the story, mine, yours and the truth”. It’s just my take on what happened. In every story there is always 3 versions. I am not saying I am lying. What I am writing about is how I see things. Probably to anyone reading it a warped, crazy, mad lady version.
Come midnight the nurse in charge (finger in every pie) said I can have access to my room, my mattress and one cover. I am dressed only in leggings and a flimsy top and I am freezing, but, I know there is no point arguing. So I wrap the cover round me, over my shoulders and then lie on the bed and pull it over my head. My feet are freezing but my own body heat and breath keep the rest of me warm. I do take my meds in the morning but refuse to come out my room for anything else. All I want to do is sleep the day away. I am not happy about being transferred to In My City Hospital and I feel quite low, and ashamed. But come 2pm. Finger in Every Pie and another key worker nurse come storming in my room. Pull the covers off me telling me they want to speak to me. They have a plan.
Firstly, I am going to be locked out of my room from 9am-10pm every day.
I am only going to be allowed 2 items of clothing (no underwear)
I am not going to be able to go to the toilet unsupervised; someone will have to be there all the time.
The same with showers.
I am not allowed my glasses unless I am sat at the communal dining table and I am reading.
I am not going to be allowed in the lounge to lounge around and these will be locked off from me.
I am not allowed any luxury items, so no iPod.
I had just been woken up. I am not happy. I am not one of these people who can wake up and be alert right off. I need time. I don’t like people talking to me when I have just woken up. I am not a morning person this very often comes across. I need time. OK, this was not the morning. But they had just waked me up. I was a bit dazed and confused. They said there would not be any negotiation to this and I was to leave the room right away. I needed the loo but the men wouldn’t leave the room even though there were 2 females there. It was awful!
Although, 2 hours later I have my glasses on in the lounge as Finger in Every Pie told me to go in there and read as I was complaining of being cold. They still wouldn’t let me keep my glasses on me and toilet and showers were supervised. Not in there with me but just the other side of the stable door. I didn’t mind the showers so much, but being supervised when you want to go to the toilet properly is horrible. Although I found little tricks. But I am not going to discuss this I hate talking about poo (the 12 days on an infectious diseases ward after I came back from travelling were a nightmare)!